Chapter 3 - Premature (TCOK)
Tubba's life had a very monotonous ring to it. Every day, he woke up in his room in the highest reaches of Clubba Castle, ate his breakfast, and made his way to the west urban area to the School. It was then he would slip the regalia into his shell, and change from Tubba Red Clubba Blubba II, the Clubban heir, to Tubba Red Clubba, the loser commoner. The one solace he had on this well-beaten, sandy track en route to the large sandstone building that was the primary Clubba School in the Kingdom was his best friend Gonzales. Gonzales and Tubba had been friends from their initial days at the Clubba School, back when Clubbas were first expected to get a formal education at three. They had steadfastly stuck together over the years, even as they shifted from the naive views of young children to the battle-hardened and aware views of almost-adult Clubbas. It did not matter what the others thought of Tubba; Gonzales would always be by his side. The school year always started in the middle of Month Leaf in the crisp autumn mornings, the fourth of five months in the calendar system. It ran through the wintery Month Shell, turning into the new year of the desolate Month Flower, before rejuvenating in Month Star, the current month and the month of Tubba's birthday. Finally, it would wrap up in the heat of summer, halfway through Month Mushroom. Each month had seventy-three days, and each week had seven days. Gonzales was the one person who Tubba felt guilty withholding his birthright from, but, Tubba supposed it was all for the better. If he was a steadfast friend when there was nothing to receive in return, Gonzales would be in for a pleasant surprise when Tubba was King. The current Commander of the Armies, Clubbar, an elderly green Clubba, had been Commander for forty years, being appointed at a young age by Tubba's grandfather, Karubba. As Karubba's reign phased in Tubba Sr.'s reign, Clubbar and Tubba Sr. were the closest of friends, separated by fourteen years in age. But Clubbar would not go on forever, and neither would Tubba Sr., and Tubba could see it now; the two greatest Clubbas atop a powerful Kingdom: Gonzales and Tubba Jr.. Gonzales was slightly larger than Tubba, belying his younger age. The dark blue Clubba had similar blazing orange hair to Tubba, a white-rimmed brown shell, and was also lacking in the muscle that made a strong Clubba, appearing more like a gangly teen than anything else. Gonzales' orange lips clashed greatly with his dark blue scales, steadily shedding for his shiny new adult coat. Around fourteen, the orange hairs began to steadily change to white, and the scales were shed for a thicker, stronger adult coat of scales. Gonzales would not be fourteen until Month Leaf, unlike most of the Clubbas in their grade, who the oldest were already fifteen. Sure enough, a familiar blue shape was waiting on the path ahead of him. "Hello, Gonzales," Tubba greeted the Clubba, who raised a hand and waved at Tubba. "Hi, Tubba. How are you today?" Gonzales responded as Tubba drew level with him. "Oh, I'm great." Tubba replied with a typical answer, hearing his rich and familiar voice echo out. The next few minutes were two friends catching up, razzing each other, and just having a good time. But as Tubba drew to the large building that was their school, a sinking feeling was beginning to settle in his belly. They had a reception party. Standing at the door was a large, burly orange Clubba. It was the fifteen-year old Bubba Clubbith. Bubba was a very popular Clubba in the school, his large muscles and brawn allowing him to be one of the most talented in sports and the physical tests. But what he truly enjoyed, more than the attention and popularity that came from being the oldest and strongest Clubba in school, was making fun of those like Tubba. Bubba's face was curling into a larger and larger smile as Tubba drew closer. Standing by his side was a yellow-scaled, slightly smaller menace. Unlike Bubba, whose hair was a silky white, and whose muscles had filled out making him a brawny eight foot figure, the menace known as Laff was much more word than deed, with specks of orange dotting his white hair, and the appearance of the gangly teen, not unlike Gonzales and Tubba. He only stuck next to Bubba because he was a doting right-hand man, and didn't want to be on the receiving end of Bubba. "Tubby!" Bubba called when Tubba came within earshot. "I was wondering when you'd show up!" Tubba exchanged a worried glance with Gonzales as they steadily drew closer and closer to Bubba and Laff. Around the two primary Clubbas were a ring of species, mainly Clubbas - Tubba recognized a girl called Mazette - a few Boos, and a few Hyper Clefts. "What, don't you want to reply to me, Tubby?" Bubba asked as Tubba put his head down and continued walking toward Bubba. If he could just slip past him, and into the School... Gonzales, for his credit, didn't waver in his stride beside Tubba, the two of them steadily making their way toward the ring of schoolmates. "Are you scawwwed, Tubby?" Bubba jeered mockingly, but Tubba had a flash of satisfaction as he saw Laff and Bubba exchange a confused glance. Tubba was now nearly level with Bubba, and the large Clubba spread out his arms in both directions, blocking his way into the School. "Hey, Tubby, you're here to fight me! Everyone's here to see you get the living snot kicked out of you!" Shrugging off Bubba's attempts to block him, Tubba tried once again to pass Bubba into the school, Gonzales still by his side. The orange Clubba's arm held steadfast, and he knocked Tubba back with a swipe. Jeers rang around the schoolyard as Tubba felt himself be thrown backwards, landing heavily on the sandy path. "Come on, you bile-breath Goomba!" Bubba crowed, "fight me if you have any balls! Or maybe you inherited none from your father? Come to think of it, I haven't seen your father. The guy probably was a coward, ballless, weak, and passed it on to this son of a Broozer. Maybe it's not Tubba's fault at all." Laughs and crows echoed from the crowd, laughing at Tubba and with Bubba. Tubba bent his head down, feeling anger churn inside him as Bubba insulted his father. If only Bubba knew exactly who his father was. He had a weapon by his side - he carried a club, as all Clubbas did. Maybe it was finally time to put Bubba in his place. Maybe it was finally time for the Heir to the Clubba Kingdom to crush all doubts about his heirship. "Fine." Tubba responded, amazed to hear his voice come out strong and steady. "Let's do it." Pointing the spiky head of the mace in Bubba's direction, the orange Clubba's mouth curled into a smile. "I knew you would."